Yeah, it's Frost, and the lawless clique, yeah, ayo Fred Breck, you ready to do this
man, yeah, come on man, some new * for the 9A baby, goes down like this, I got a
call from the lawless clique, this *'s about to pop, this *'s getting sticky,
don't trip, even if this * gets hot, we don't stop, even if they scheming plot, the
player haters sabotage on the daily, but you stupid motherfuckers don't make me or break
me, ayy homie, do they break you, hell nah, we break fools too, I thought you knew, we
suck a proof in this * all day and night, and we don't stop because we keep our game
tight, you know what's up Frost, motherfuckers pay the cost, wanna get what is click, prepared
to get tossed.
We the realest, want this grill, it's all about the cash, we don't stop, this gangsta
mash, flash first, ask questions last, * around with us and it'll be your ass, cash
money, every young father's dream, is the moon man paint on the triple B, where y'all
only as good, as your last lick, take it from the profs and the lawless clique, we gotta
expand, collaboration, distribution, you drunk, you go.
Now I'ma slow my bro, pump my brakes, dipping through traffic in the golden state, ain't
nothing new though, you know how we do it in low percentage, just another day, come to
sunny west coast where the riders ride, the players play, 24-7 like every day, and you
wish you could do it like my team, man we make cash money like it ain't no thing, wide
body, our 20 inch bravas gleam, 18 carat baguette cut diamond brains, the American dream is
to have nice things.
A big ass pad, a fly ass fly, talking bout all day, getting high, no more 9 to 5, no more
nickel and dimes, I make money, busting dope ass rhymes, ain't nothing new, you know how
we do it, flawless, we the lawless clique, got your hyena on the dick, so back up off
me, we creep softly, you can't stop me in the back of that SS impala, we still don't
stop making dollars, the lawless way.
No mark, any fix, cash money, every young baller's dream, is the moon map weighed on
a triple beam, where y'all is good, ask your last lick, take it from the frost and the
lawless clique, we gotta expand, cooperation, distribution, New York, Chicago, L.A., L.A.
Verse 3, it's all about the currency, my money, for the G, and that's me, what a smirk, I put
in work, fools get hurt, it's all about the hustle, put that ass in the dirt, I don't flirt
with death, death first with me, shady as can be, from the land of palm trees, it's
the G, high in the sky, flowing with the breeze, sporting we dives, and oversize Levi's, nowhere
to run, nowhere to hide from us, super dope like a * bag of angel dust, and it's
so much that I keep it doped up and smacked back, side to side, bend the block and let
the low low glide, so come swerve with me, hit some mer with me, hit a curb with me,
to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor,
to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor, to a floor,

Man, Brad Bradby, from the womb to the tomb, I run my game, cause I'm cold as ice and
I show no shame in this game, I'm in, bitch, I'm in, it's winning, bitch
We gotta set our own mark
Cash money, every unboughtest dream
Is the movement weighed on a triple beam
When you're only as good, as your last lick
Take it from the frozen, the lawless clique
We gotta expand
The whole operation
We gotta expand

distribution
good job
L.A.
L.A.
L.A.
yeah that's right
it's gross
and I'm on this clique
executed by my homeboy
Brad Brick
you better ask somebody
motherfucker
man you better go tell somebody
motherfucker
for the 9-8
for the 9-8